His deep chuckle sounded from behind me as I slid my phone back into my bag.

“Would you like to make a fake call to the police as well?” he asked in amusement.

I scowled and stopped walking, spinning around on him. “It wasn’t fake. And why the hell are you following me anyway?” My voice came out high-pitched and frightened. I hated how I sounded.

“Do you always walk home alone at night?” He was frowning again.

“That’s none of your business. Now, please stop following me. It’s creepy.”

He took a step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m making sure you get home safe. Don’t be so ungrateful. How much farther is your house?”

The way he spoke made me feel scolded. I looked back and forth between his eyes, trying to decipher if he was being honest. All I got in return was his smouldering dark gaze and neither honesty nor dishonesty. He was like a vault, locked up tight. I was never going to be able to read him.

“You could have told me that in the first place. Don’t you know it’s weird to just randomly start following someone?”

He slowly blinked at me and repeated his question. “How much farther is your house?”

“We’re almost there. I’ll be fine from here. I’m sorry for snapping at you,” I said, and began walking again. He kept up the pace beside me. I sighed.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’d rather you not know where I live. For my own peace of mind, you understand?”

He tilted his head down at me, a quizzical look on his face, which made me feel like I needed to explain further.

“You’re a stranger. A kind of scary-looking stranger, if I’m being honest, no offence. So leading you right to where I live would be dumb, right?”

He almost smiled, and wow, when Jack McCabe almost smiled, it really was something to behold. I wasn’t sure I could handle a full one. “I’m good scary, Lille. The kind that frightens off bad scary.”

I was surprised that he’d remembered my name. I’m not sure what possessed me to say what I did next, and I regretted it instantly. “Pinky promise you’re not a psycho killer?” I held out my little finger to him, and he simply stared at it.

“I’m not a psycho killer.”

Feeling stupid, I dropped my hand and considered his answer. Perhaps he was trying to be nice and make sure I got home safe. Then another idea struck me. Was he interested in walking me home because he wanted sex? I looked at him as he strode along, gaze straight ahead. It was almost like he’d read my thoughts, because he turned to me then, his voice deep and husky. “If I wanted to fuck you, you’d know about it.”

I shivered. I didn’t think a man had ever referred to fucking me before, which was sad. And it was even sadder that the first time it happened it was a man referring to the fact that he didn’t want to. I let out a long breath and tried not to let my feelings be hurt.

Tugging my coat tighter around myself as we reached my street, I told him, “Well, you don’t mince your words, do you?”

He shook his head. “Don’t see the point.”

“Okay. I’m home now. You’ve done your duty.” I opened my garden gate and stepped inside.

He called after me. “Remember what I said, Lille. You shouldn’t come with us. You think it’s going to be all fun and games, running away with the circus, but it’s not. It’s hard work with little sleep and shit pay. It’s for people who don’t have homes and mothers who worry about them. It’s not the life for you.”

“I’m not trying to make it my life, Jack. And I never even said I was coming.”

“Good. Don’t.”

“I can make my own decisions.”

“So make the right one.”

We stared at each other for a long time, almost like we were having a stand-off. I felt triumphant when he was the one to walk away first.

***

I didn’t sleep a wink that night. When I got to my room, I sat on my bed, rubbing my hands back and forth over the blanket, my mind racing. I was nearly out of time. I had to make a decision. I mean, running away with the circus was all rainbows and lollipops in theory, but what if I couldn’t hack the reality? I had about four hundred euros in savings to my name and little else. Would I make enough money painting faces to get by?

I was such a coward. The danger was what I wanted. Adventure was something I craved. I had to quit worrying. Steely determination came over me as I pulled out my suitcase and began packing. Of course, I didn’t quite get over all of my fear, as instead of telling Mum in person, I decided to leave her a note. Yeah, I was that type of gutless wonder. But my mother was scary in a way that few people understood. I wasn’t sure there’d ever be a time when her disappointment wouldn’t cut me to the quick.

I was twenty-one. A fully grown woman. I didn’t need her permission to do anything anymore.

Now all I had to do was convince myself to believe it.

She was going to blow a gasket when she found my letter. I was hoping I’d be on a ferry halfway to France by the time that happened. I sealed the letter in an envelope and set it down on my dresser. I managed to squeeze the majority of my clothes into my suitcase, and I threw a small duffel with my sleeping bag in it over my shoulder. I wasn’t quite sure what my sleeping arrangements were going to be.

If worst came to worst, I could sleep on somebody’s floor, right?

I was still wearing the same outfit as the night before when I quietly slipped out of my house at seven in the morning. I could hear Mum moving around in her room, so I knew she’d just woken up. Thankfully, I managed to get out before she noticed. As I hurried down the street, my heart pumped a mile a minute. I loved the thrill of feeling like I was getting away from her. Freeing myself from the prison of quiet desperation I’d been living in.

When I got into town, I stopped by an ATM machine and withdrew all of my savings, shoving the notes into my duffle. I called my boss Nelly and explained to her that I wouldn’t be able to work for the rest of the summer. She gave me hell and told me not to come looking for a reference, which I’d expected, but I winced as she spoke angrily down the line all the same.

When I got to the circus, it wasn’t a circus anymore. The entire thing had been packed away, presumably in one of the large cargo trucks. All that was left was a field full of camper vans. Marina sat on a step outside her motor home, sipping from a mug of coffee and smoking a cigarette, while Pierre sat on her lap, making cute little noises.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said, eyes smiling.

I was out of breath when I stopped by her and leaned against the side of the van. I felt like I’d been running ever since I left my house. My heart was still pounding. Mum could be reading my letter right this moment. I could just imagine the vein in her forehead throbbing in outrage.

“You sure you still want me along?” I asked, and she laughed.

“Of course I do, sweetheart. Wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t. I’ve been watching you work in that restaurant all week, and I know a girl desperate for travel when I see one. You’ll fit right in with us here.”

When Pierre saw me, he jumped off Marina’s lap and came ambling towards me.

“He’s adorable,” I said.

“Don’t let the innocent little face fool you,” said Marina. “He’s as shrewd as they come, is my Pierre.” I knew she was telling the truth when Pierre climbed up onto my shoulder, reached down, and pulled an old bus ticket from the breast pocket of my coat. I laughed as he hopped off with his loot, then disappeared inside Marina’s camper.

She stubbed out her smoke just as the door to a smaller camper opened and Lola walked out. She rubbed sleep from her eyes, still wearing her pyjamas. “Lille! You came! OMG, I’m so happy right now,” she said, and pulled me into a tight hug.

I think Marina must have seen the bewildered look on my face when she said, “Our Lola gets attached fast when she likes someone. It’s just her way.”